


With You

by hpfreak123q



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, I wanted to come up with what Thranduil's wife was like, I'm kind of mashing together the movie canon and the book canon, Then I got carried away, This is just a headcanon gone too far, This won't end where you expect it to
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2015-02-17
Packaged: 2018-03-07 05:25:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3162878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hpfreak123q/pseuds/hpfreak123q
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My own imagining of what Thranduil's wife was like, how they came to be together, and what their life together was like.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Celebelen is said to have been the greatest healer to ever grace Middle Earth. She met Thranduil not long after his father founded Greenwood the Great and he became Prince of the Woodland Realm. He was freshly returned from his final battle with a dragon from the most northern borders of the realm, when he was laid out on a healing table.

The other healers tried desperately to fix the deep scars on his left cheek, until Celebelen entered. They recognized her and bowed lightly before her. When she entered Thranduil’s vision for the first time, he arched a perfect brow but remained silent.

His first thought was that she was rather plain for someone so obviously Sindar. Her gold hair complimented her violet eyes, but that was all that was notable about her. She was too quiet, her silence bothered him for some reason. He was prince of this realm, everyone tried speaking to him, but she did not.

She worked hard, meticulous in her efforts, and respectfully ignoring any slight twitches of pain he decidedly did not make. When she was done, she told him quietly that he was free to move without pain. He sat up, and immediately touched where the injury had been. He surveyed her quickly, and bade everyone else to leave.

"The injury is fully healed, my lord," she murmured. "However, there will always be an echo of the scars that have been. You only have to burn through my healing magic with particularly powerful rage to reveal the wounds. And even then, my magic will not fade."

He nodded, “My attendants seemed to know you. Do you have a name?”

"I am called Celebelen," she bowed to him again, and stood erect, waiting for his dismissal.

"Why do they know you, Celebelen?"

"Because I am a great healer, and a master in such craft," she responded.

He was silent for a time, looking elsewhere. Finally, “Celebelen, should you not have urgent matters elsewhere I would bid you stay here in my father’s court.”

Her face registered shock, “Y-yes, my lord.”

He nodded thoughtfully, seemingly to himself, “You have my leave to go.”

She bowed deeply and quickly removed herself from the room.

In the weeks that followed, Celebelen felt Thranduil’s watchful eye on her whenever they crossed paths. Mostly he watched her as she went to retrieve water when he stayed up to supervise the changing of his guard.

Thranduil felt strange around her. He heard tales of her quietly tending to the minor wounds of the soldiers who had been sparring. He was told that she did not allow even the slightest pain to go unattended once they fell under her hands. She seemed to never speak unless it was necessary, but her face was expressive. When she smiled many did with her. And so the Elven Prince felt his heart soften towards the young maid.

* * *

 

He would often visit his elk when he felt confused. When he came to his companion two days after he realized that he may have feelings for the elf maid, he found her there already. She was whispering to his companion soothingly.

“Why are you here? With my elk?” Thranduil asked.

Her gaze snapped up, startled by his sudden presence. “He was injured. He twisted an ankle the last time he ventured out into the forest. I spent a few hours here to help his healing process.”

He stared at her, surprised.

She glanced everywhere else nervously, “I did not know he was yours. I apologize.”

He raised a palm to stop her apology, “Thank you. He is precious to me.”

She bowed to him quickly, and left before he could say another word.

He stepped close to his companion to pat his comforting fur while watching her retreating form.

He knew now, more than ever, that he had fallen for her.


	2. Chapter 2

It was during the Celebration of Ethuil that he found her alone. He bade her follow him to a small alcove where some nurtured plants. Pink blossoms blew in the winds when Thranduil confessed his desire to pursue her.

When she looked shocked, he asked, “Did you not know?”

She shook her head.

When he stepped towards her, she stepped back.

"You fear me," he said, as a statement of fact.

She spoke then,”No, my lord, you merely startled me.”

He stared at her for a moment, “Will you let me closer, Celebelen?”

She hesitated for a moment, then nodded slowly.

He caught a fluttering blossom in his fingertips as he stepped close. Placing the blossom behind her ear tenderly, he said, “You are fairer than all the starlight in springtime.”

She flushed prettily at his compliment. He followed the trail with his fingertips until his hand touched the other side of her jaw. He watched as her gaze drew downward, seemingly shy.

“Before I would have your decision on whether or not I am to pursue you, I would like to curry your favor. May I?” he asked politely.

Her gaze lifted to his, and his breath caught in his throat.

“Yes,” she said softly.

He was entranced by her, he didn’t even notice when he leaned towards her. It was only when he felt her breath waft over his lips when he realized how close they were.

He could have sworn she leaned closer before they heard a crash behind them. They quickly broke apart, as he whirled to inspect their interruption.

Unfortunately, it was only a drunken soldier resting against the door frame for a moment before moving on. Thranduil turned back to her, only to find that he moment had been ruined, and she was brushing past him.

“I’d better get back,” she said almost breathlessly.

Before she could get past him completely, he grasped her hand. She stopped and looked at him.

He brought her hand to his mouth to brush a kiss on her fingertips, “I will see you tomorrow, I hope. Sleep well.”

And then she was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

Months passed, and Thranduil made good on his word. Often she received small gifts, such as a flower on her pillow as she woke, a ribbon for her hair delivered to her door before breakfast. In the evenings he asked his attendant to take her a glass of his own wine, which according to what people told her, he made himself.

When she was asked about the gifts, she merely smiled fondly and changed the subject. She didn’t want anyone to know that she had almost refused the Woodland Prince himself out of surprise. She had a feeling that would disrespect his reputation.

And what a reputation!

She had heard from many that he was cold and calculating. They told her that Oropher never had a better strategist than Thranduil, that he fell into the role of the prince all too well. She was told that he was ruthless and a fierce warrior. She heard before they met, that he was a serious elf, and rarely had time for anything other than taking care of the kingdom.

So when they crossed paths again, for the first time in months, she was passing through the throne room. She glanced over to where he was seemingly deep in conversation with his father, and paused to observe him. She didn’t know how long she stood there with her lips quirking upwards slightly, when his eyes met hers.

Her heart stumbled in her chest as she watched a smile unfold on his handsome features. Unconsciously, she placed her hand on her chest, hoping to calm her suddenly stampeding heart. In that moment, she had never seen anything more breathtaking than his smile. She did not notice when others had stopped as well to witness such a rarity. She only became aware of him, and the fact that he was moving closer to her, having abandoned his father.

When he reached her, he grabbed her hands in his, his smile out in full force. “Did you like your gifts?” he asked quietly, glancing at the ribbon in her hair, recognizing it as one that he had given her.

He smiled back weakly and replied just as quietly, “Yes, I did, very much. Thank you.”

He heard a loud cough behind them, and he glanced behind him to see his father looking expectantly at him. He nodded once, and turned back to her smiling again.

Bringing her fingertips to his lips again, he told her, “I will see you again.”

“Sooner, this time,” she blurted.

His eyes widened in surprise, then his smile turned into a full grin, “Whenever you would like.”

She looked around making sure she could not be heard, then she leaned up to whisper in his ear, “Tonight, beside the tree of light.”

When she leaned back, his hand cupped her cheek, “I will meet you there.”

She watched him turn his back to return to his father. She saw his lips still turned upwards as he turned to the parchment his father had been reviewing with him.


	4. Chapter 4

That afternoon she arrived at their meeting place entirely too early, to pace. She must have braided and unbraided a strand of her hair a thousand times trying to talk herself into leaving before he arrived. However every time she got close to leaving, the image of him spotting her and smiling drifted through her mind, returning her to her place beside the tree.

She did not notice when the sun had set, only hearing a rustle of noise coming from the path. She hid quickly, her back against the tree, her palms clinging to the rough bark for balance. When the rustling noise stopped, she felt something soft touching the top of her hand, another’s hand clasping around hers. She fearfully looked to her right, only to be confronted with Thranduil’s gently smiling face.

She released an unsteady breath, “You startled me.”

“I see that,” he replied, stepping closer.

She stared at him for a few moments, feeling his breath trail over her cheeks, feeling her heart thunder in her chest. She bit her lip, fighting off a smile that threatened to answer his own.

When he leaned closer, his eyes straying to her mouth, her heart almost stopped completely. She panicked and tightened her hand’s grip in his and turned her face to the side.

“Come, I have something to show you,” she told him, pulling him along with her.

She dropped his hand and began to climb the nearest tree, only pausing to make sure he followed her. She felt nervous showing him this place she had found, the place she had frequented often in the nights when she could not sleep.

She was so very concentrated on her nervousness, that she did not notice when she grabbed on a branch entirely too small for even her slight weight. When it snapped, she stumbled, and she felt his hand wrap around her waist to catch her.

“Careful,” he murmured.

She flushed and continued to climb. She lead him to the very tops of the trees, careful to lead him over strong branches that she knew would carry their weight.

She stepped over to the patch of branches she had cultured into a resting place and lay down on top of them on her back. She wiggled slightly to get comfortable, and watched as he stood over her, watching her curiously.

She gestured for him to do the same, and stared as he folded himself down beside her with easy grace. He placed a hand on his abdomen and stared up at the sky beside her. Her head was angled towards him, to watch him out of the corner of her eyes. She glanced down at his free hand, not far from where her own lay, and wondered if he had done that on purpose.

She heard him inhale as if to begin speaking and her eyes quickly snapped to his face, which was still staring at the stars.

“It is a beautiful night,” he said softly.

She looked up again, and agreed, “It truly is.”

He took another deep breath, “I wonder if my mother would have found beauty in this night as well.”

Celebelen stilled, unsure how to answer him.

“Do…do you remember much of your mother?” she asked hesitantly.

“No, I was quite young when she was slain. It changed my father. Grief is a terrible thing to experience, and especially with a young son. I am told I look very much like her,” he said.

She was silent for a moment, then decided to tiptoe her fingers towards his, keeping her eyes trained on a specific star above her. When her fingers touched his, she heard his slight intake of breath and hesitated. She felt his fingers quickly grab for hers when it seemed she was going to pull back, then relaxed when her fingertips slightly traced over his palm. After another moment’s hesitation, she placed her palm on his and laced their hands together.

A sigh of contentment and a feeling of being complete overtook both of them. It felt as if two worlds had come together in perfect union, and no words in any language could describe the joy coursing through both bodies.

She finally turned her head to look at him fully, surprised to find he was already looking at her. They stared at each other for a moment.

“However, I believe he made a valiant effort in raising me, I think,” he said with a smile creeping onto his features.

She tried to keep the smile off her lips, but it came anyway.

“It was my mother that helped me discover my ability to heal,” she told him.

He hummed in acknowledgement, “My father was very focused on my skill with a blade.”

The look in her eyes became sad, “I have healed many wounds inflicted by a blade, it is unpleasant to say the least.”

His grip on her hand tightened briefly, reassuringly, as he lifted his body closer to hers, then to turn on his side, to see her more fully. He spotted a stray tendril that lay across her collar bone and grasped it between his fingertips on his free hand, twisting it lightly.

“May suffering and harm never touch us again,” he breathed.

They were silent again, for a time, only looking, enjoying one another’s presence.

He spoke again, “You have stars in your eyes, Celebelen.”

She flushed lightly, “What you see is only a small reflection of something far greater.”

A corner of his mouth quirked up, “There is no reflection, only you.”

And he leaned down and watched as her eyes widened as their mouths were inches apart. When he stopped, just above her, he watched as her surprise simmered to comfort. He saw her hand move out of the corner of his eye, and felt it settle on the back of his neck, playing with the strands that rested there. She smiled as she pulled him down the rest of the way for their mouths to meet.

Immediately, both of them felt a jolt of correctness in their actions, as if fate had designed this moment for them. Her hand that was still clasped in his released it and came to wrap around his shoulder, trying to hold him closer. They continued to kiss for several long minutes, slowly, leisurely, until Celebelen needed to breathe.

When she broke the kiss, she was breathless. She felt some satisfaction in feeling him taking deep breaths trying to hide the fact that he too was winded. His lips rested against her jaw, his eyes were still gently closed. She caressed the skin at the base of his neck with shaking fingers.

“I am to assume I may court you now, yes?” he asked after a time.

He had to ask? When it felt as if her whole life had built to this moment?

It started with a smile blossoming on her face at the ridiculousness of his question. Then turned into barely suppressed chuckles, turning into giggling, then finally her whole body was shaking with laughter.

He lifted his head and opened his eyes, fighting a smile himself. Watching her eyes squeeze shut, her mouth open wide, and a happy flush spreading over all of her visible skin, he let the joyful sound of her laughter wash over him, warming his heart. He moved to resume lying on his back before he joined her, chuckles rumbling from his chest.

When at last her laughter had subsided into giggles, she turned to mimic his former position at his side. Her hand slid over his heart to rest against his cheek. Mirth still shone in her eyes when she finally said, “Yes, you may court me.”

He nuzzled his cheek into her palm, and felt a slight tremor run through her. His brows furrowed in confusion, then he realized that she must be cold. His hands immediately went to the frog at his throat, unclasping it with nimble fingers. He only smiled when she gave him a questioning look, pulling his cloak out from under him. With a quiet fwoosh, he aired out the cloak and let it fall gently over them both. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and encouraged her to move closer, when she did, her hand slipped from his cheek to rest on his chest, and on the opposite side, over his heartbeat, lay her head.

When they settled together, he gave a same hum of appreciation to how well they fit together. He lifted his head to drop a short kiss on the crown of her head, and lifted his gaze heavenwards. His last thought before his eyes closed, was that it was a beautiful night indeed.


	5. Chapter 5

The first thing Thranduil was aware of that morning was a pleasant weight on his chest. His lips curled into a smile as memories from the previous night returned to him. He shifted slightly, to try and hold her closer to him, and sighed when it was accomplished.

The next thing he was made aware of was the sound of a bow being drawn.

His eyes snapped open to find one of his father’s attendants with an arrow directed at Celebelen. Only his torso was peeking out above the trees, rudely interrupting the view he would have had of the sunrise in their little love nest.

As quietly as he could, he whispered, “If you harm her, I will destroy you.”

The arrow was lowered. The attendant shot him a worried look, “Your father-”

He interrupted, “I fell asleep in the forest after a long walk. That is what happened. This is what you will tell people. Am I understood?”

At his severe look, the young elf quailed, “Y-yes, my lord.”

“Good, now begone,” he said imperiously.

He listened carefully for the signs that the elf had left, and when it was certain that he had he began to move very slowly. His hand, which had covered hers over his breast, slid up her arm to gently grasp her shoulder and shook her gently.

“Celebelen, it is morning,” he said softly.

She seemed not to hear him, and settled closer to him, her nose gently nuzzling the fabric covering his heartbeat.

He chuckled slightly, and pressed a kiss to her hair. The hand covering her shoulder moved out from beneath the cloak that was still covering them both, and he used his fingertips to gently tap her nose. He watched it crinkle in annoyance with amusement. He continued on tapping her nose, watching her wiggle it, attempting to rid herself of the irritation.

When finally her hand moved to grab his fingers, it seemed she was fully awake. When she opened her eyes to stare at the fingers she held in her hand, a look of confusion crossed her face. Then she looked up to see his amused face break into a laugh. Immediately a blush suffused her face.

“Good morning,” he said, after his laughter had subsided.

She tried to get up once she released his hand, she really did. But when the arm that had been wrapped around her back tightened further, she gave up.

“Good morning,” she said softly.

“It is truly good to see you so early in the morning,” he said cheerfully.

She said nothing and tried to breathe in steadily.

“However, we do have a short amount of time together this morning, I fear my father is looking for me,” he told her.

“Oh?” she replied. “Should we be going then?” she attempted to get up again, and was only met with his arm tightening around her again, preventing her endeavor.

“Not just yet,” he intoned, “if you would allow it, I would very much like to watch the sunrise with you still warm in my arms.”

She nodded and settled back against his chest, turning her eyes to the horizon. She listened to him exhale happily and felt his hand grasping for hers. Smiling, she reached out and grabbed his hand for the second time that morning.

And for a few moments, all was quiet. Two people, happily enjoying each other’s company in the light of a sunrise. To Thranduil, it was the first of many perfect mornings that he would wake with her in his arms.

Celebelen suddenly wondered how one goes about courting the Prince of the Woodland Realm. Surely, he was very busy, with very little time to spend with her. She opened her mouth to ask him, but being unsure how to ask, she quickly closed it again.

Another thought occurred to her and filled her with dread. What if he was toying with her? She had been told he was cold, but would he be this cruel? She was no one of note, no title, not particularly beautiful. The only things she could truly say about herself was her healing abilities and that she was distantly related to Lady Galadriel. She tensed her body and waited for damning words to fall from his mouth.

Unfortunately, being perceptive, he noticed, “Something wrong?”

She shook her head.

“Should something be amiss, I would have you tell me. I can tell something bothers you, will you not share with me your fears?” he asked gently.

She sighed, “I…I only wondered if you would have much time to spend with me. I thought, surely you must be busy….So I wondered…”

Once again, his arm tightened around her, “While it is true that my father requires some of my time, it is only a short amount of time. Other than that, my life is actually quite empty.”

She shifted to look up at him, eyebrow arched, “You? Surely you must have other things that are required of you?”

He smiled at her, “Only tasks I set myself, such as practice with a blade, experimenting with wine, and overseeing the changing of the guard.”

“Oh,” she replied.

“So, we may spend as much, or as little, time together as you wish,” he told her, his grasp on her hand tightening briefly, reassuring her of his sincerity.

She nodded in acknowledgement and settled back against him.

For a few more moments, it was quiet. Then suddenly they both started as a loud voice boomed, “What do you mean, ‘he fell asleep, and you didn’t bring him back with you’? Where is my son?!”

She looked at Thranduil with fear in her eyes.

He laughed slightly, “Not to worry, it’s just my father. I will explain what happened.”

When she still looked worried, he tried soothing her, “He will be happy I have shown interest in someone. Do not fear.”

She shifted to begin sitting up. She pulled the cloak off her and stood to dust her clothing off. She pretended to be busy righting herself as she watched him lift himself up with the same easy grace she had seen the night before.

When he had his cloak wrapped around his shoulders once more, she saw that he had turned towards her. He looked to be waiting for her to look up.

When she didn’t, she felt his hand gently grasp her chin, bringing her face close to his.

“Celebelen,” he said softly.

Her gaze lifted to his, and when she saw the tender look in his eyes, her breath hitched. He brought his mouth down to gently touch hers. When she lifted on her toes to press herself even more into his kiss, she could feel his smile blooming under her lips.

He broke the kiss, still smiling, and ran his thumb over her jaw.

“Good morning,” he said, and then he was gone, climbing down the trees, and shouting to the nearest sentry.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IDK this is just an excuse to write a bunch of fluff.

Celebelen touched her mouth a long time after he was gone. For a while she stared at nothing, until a grin unfolded on her face. She giggled a little, and stepped in a circle, surveying the place that she just slept the night away with the Prince of the Woodland Realm. She stared at her fingers and laughed, because these fingers had touched him when she agreed to court him. She fell backwards to rest against the same branches that their first kiss occurred on. It was all a little surreal, his interest in her. But after that morning, she did not doubt him.

She curled onto her side and breathed deeply, smelling the last vestiges of his scent disappearing in the gentle morning wind. And suddenly, as she turned to lay on her back to stare at the clear blue sky, her entire world shifted. She was in love with Prince Thranduil. She pressed her hand above her frantically beating heart, trying to calm herself.

When she finally calmed, she made her way down to the forest floor, and swept into the palace with a smile on her face. She visited her room, and took in her appearance in her small mirror. With a hum, she quickly unbraided her hair and combed through it with her fingers. After rebraiding her hair, she thought it prudent to change her clothes, find a warm cloak, and find something to eat.

When she got to the infirmary she was greeted by her fellow healers. She smiled away at the inquisitive looks they were giving her at her tardiness and cheerfulness. Quickly, water was requested, so she grabbed the nearest urn and left to the fountain.

The sun was now high above, and shone brightly in the courtyard. She took in a deep breath and lifted her face to the sky, hugging the urn to her chest. Releasing the breath, she stepped forward and dipped the urn into the cool water of the fountain before her.

As she lifted it, her eyes were caught by a movement in the hall. She watched Oropher lead Thranduil down the hall opposite the infirmary, as she straightened. When he caught sight of her, he paused. She fought with a grin that threatened to overtake her mouth and tucked a stray hair that had fallen out of her braids behind her ear. She bowed quickly and turned away, her grin now out in full force.

Back inside the infirmary, she went to take inventory of all available herbs they had left, thinking that her position would be good to hide the happiness evident in her eyes. She listened lightly to the conversations around her, until she caught Thranduil's name as a topic.

As she slowed her movements in front of the cabinet, trying to listen carefully.

“I've heard the prince has chosen to court someone!” said one of them.

“Oh? Who is it then?”

“We don't know yet! He's apparently being quite secretive about it!”

Celebelen smiled as she surveyed the clear jar of king's root.

The one who spoke first giggled, “It could be anyone!”

Another gave a hum of agreement, then turned to Celebelen, “What about you? What do you know about it?”

Celebelen almost dropped the jar in her hand, “Why would I know?”

“Perhaps because you received all those gifts from him!”

Several of the girls gasped and gathered around her.

She set down the jar, and turned to her colleagues, “Those weren't exactly gifts. I asked him to send them to me.”

It wasn't all a lie, she supposed, though if Thranduil hadn't let their secret out yet, then she certainly wasn't.

“And the prince simply agreed to your requests?”

“I healed his wounds, I expect he wanted to repay me,” she said, trying to make her way out the door.

“Where are you going?” asked one of them kindly.

“We are out of a few herbs, I'm going to collect a few,” she replied as she grabbed a basket near the door.

One called out, “Do not forget the basil, please!”

“I won't,” she called back, and finally she was out the door.

* * *

 

It was late afternoon when she finally returned. Her basket was full to the brim, as it bounced against her thigh, walking to the now blissfully empty infirmary. She whisked her cloak off and set her basket on the counter beneath the herbal cabinet to begin sorting and replenishing the supply.

As she reached to place a now full jar back into it's place, she started as she heard something.

“Celebelen,” said a voice she now knew very well.

Pressing a hand to her chest, she turned to see Thranduil standing in the doorway.

“You gave me a start,” she said, almost reproachfully.

“You left,” he replied, leaning his head to the side curiously.

She gestured to her now half empty basket, “I was gathering herbs.”

He nodded, “I was worried.”

She showed her palms and shrugged lightly, “As you can see I am fine.”

He walked closer and began helping her sort through the herbs, his shoulder brushing hers, “I told my father of our courtship.”

She smiled slightly, picking up the clumps he had set out, “I heard, and now the kingdom is in an uproar because no one knows who the mysterious elf maid is.”

He huffed in derisive amusement.

She smiled a little wider as she placed another jar into the cabinet. Absently, she reached over for another clump of herbs but only came in contact with his hand, which closed over hers. She turned to him and glanced at the now empty basket. She watched him carefully with happiness in her eyes.

She lifted herself to her tiptoes and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. After almost laughing at his amazed expression, she removed her hand from his.

“I must wash up before the evening meal. Good day, Prince Thranduil,” she said as she gave him an almost mocking bow while walking to the door.

“Good day,” she heard him murmur as she left the room.

* * *

 

When evening fell, Celebelen entered the dining hall and spotted the other healers and made her way to their table and sat with them. She listened politely to their conversation, and agreed in all the right places. When everyone rose from their seats when Oropher and Thranduil entered, so did she.

When she resumed her seat with everyone else once King Oropher had sat, she did not notice that Thranduil had not taken his seat yet. She also did not notice when he frowned at the empty seat next to his. When the others at her table became silent and stared behind her, she turned to look, her gaze immediately connecting with Thranduil's, who had walked over from his place.

Silently, he held his hand out for her, glancing at hers pointedly. When she placed her hand in his, he helped her out of her chair, and silently lead her across a now quiet dining hall. He gestured for her to sit in the seat next to his, and she did. As he took his seat, he casually placed her hand still wrapped in his on the table between them. Then, as if this were a common occurrence, began to eat. She listened in mortification as the hall erupted back into conversation.

King Oropher, who sat at the head of the table, stared at Celebelen until she lowered her gaze and flushed. She felt Thranduil subtly squeeze her hand in reassurance.

Thranduil's gaze seemed fixated on his meal until his father coughed. When he turned to his father, he asked, “Yes?”

“Is...is this...?” he began.

“Yes, this is the maiden I told you of,” Thranduil replied, glancing at Celebelen with a quick smile.

Oropher looked almost shocked, and Celebelen visibly paled.

Sensing her distress, Thranduil leaned over and whispered conspiratorially into her ear, “This may seem dire, however, this is likely the first time in my life I have ever seen my father rendered speechless.”

A loud laugh escaped Celebelen, before she stifled it with her free hand. She looked reproachfully at Thranduil as she tried to stifle the rest of her giggles. He merely grinned at her, small chuckles wracking his frame, his thumb caressing the back of her hand affectionately.

Oropher seemed to snap out of his speechlessness and spoke again looking directly at Celebelen, who straightened her face into solemnity immediately, “And what is your name?”

She bowed to him and replied, “I am Celebelen, of Lorien, my lord.”

He seemed to be satisfied with her reply, and returned to his meal, continuing to glance concernedly at his son.

Throughout the dinner, Thranduil never released her hand. He poured her wine when it came from the kitchens, and made occasional conversation with her, to which she replied politely to.

When he noticed that she was done, he stood and helped her out of her chair. He gave a curt bow to his father, and watched as she gave a deeper one, then lead her from the dining hall with measured steps.

Once they were outside the hall, she didn't spot the wide grin that was growing on his face until he turned and hugged her to him.

Taking her face gently in his hands, he placed a happy kiss on her lips, and breathed, “You were wonderful.”

She returned his smile, “I was?”

“You were,” he said, rubbing his thumbs along her cheeks, watching in fascination as a blush formed there.

Then, as was usual, they heard a cough behind them, and he released his hold on her. Thranduil smiled when he saw his father behind him.

“I require your presence, my son,” said Oropher softly.

Thranduil turned back to Celebelen and grasped her hand, pressing a kiss across her knuckles, “Good night.”

And with a sigh, she watched him go with his father.


	7. Chapter 7

That morning Celebelen felt like singing as soon as her eyes had opened. So she did, as she got ready for the day, a pleasant melody filled her heart. She was sure today was going to be a wonderful day.

That is, until she heard her name as a topic coming from the infirmary as she walked to her place of work. She crept closer to listen to the gossip running rampant within.

“See I knew it was her!”

“Oh hush, none of us knew.”

“Do you think she knows yet?”

“Probably not.”

“I wonder if she'll be surprised.”

“I would. It wouldn't be very pleasant to know you were the reason the King and the Prince argued.”

Her hand shot up to cover her mouth. They _argued?_

One of them hushed that one, “No one is supposed to know! Elani only knew because she passed by the throne room the previous night.”

“It was unpleasant. I do not think I have ever heard the prince raise his voice before.”

Celebelen could not take listening anymore. She quickly roamed the palace, listening close for any indication of where Thranduil might be. When she heard that he had left for the forest early this morning, she returned to her room to fetch her cloak. Hood drawn, she made her way out of the palace.

She crept along in the dense wood until she came upon a clearing. Inside it was the one who held her heart. His perfect face was contorted in concentration, holding his drawn bow and taking deep breaths. There were three arrows nocked and the glanced to where his aim was centered and saw three targets, most had a few arrows sticking out near the center.

When he let the arrows fly, she flinched, making a fallen twig break beneath her feet. With a motion too quick for a human eye to follow, he had another arrow nocked and let it fly. When it didn't make the telltale sound that his arrow had found it's mark, his mouth thinned. The only sound that greeted him was a disappointing clatter of wood to the ground.

“Who are you? And how did you avoid it? My arrows never miss their mark,” he said frustratedly.

When she revealed herself and lowered her hood, she watched as his features immediately relaxed. He dropped his bow in half shock, half relief.

“You startled me,” he said.

The corners of her mouth quirked up slightly in humor, “Consider it repayment.”

He looked confused for a moment, then began to laugh, a deep melodious sound that made her heart flutter. She walked over to him gently smiling. When she stepped in front of him, he hugged her to him, laughter still moving his shoulders.

When finally his laughter calmed to short chuckles, he asked, “By all the stars, you astound me. Now, tell me, how did you avoid my arrow?”

“Your aim was not as true as you believed. Though, it was close,” she replied.

He frowned for a moment, then shrugged, “Perhaps I am due for more training then.”

She looked up at him, traces of a smile still gracing her features, “I have always loved the bow, though I cannot use it. It has always been the most beautiful of weapons to me.”

“I could teach you,” he offered.

Her smile faded slightly, “Perhaps another time.”

He looked at her concernedly, releasing his hands from her.

She looked to her right, taking in the foliage around them, “I was told you and your father argued.”

He grimaced, “I was not told that was a public conversation.”

Her gaze met his again, “It wasn't, but a few of the other healers were passing by the throne room the previous night and heard raised voices. They heard my name.”

“It does not matter,” he replied, waving away any concern.

She gently grabbed his hand, “It matters to me. Thranduil, you are all your father has left. I could not become a rift between you two. Perhaps....”

Almost alarmed, he watched as her gaze flitted to the ground.

He used his free hand to touch her chin, bringing her gaze up to meet his again, “Perhaps what?”

“Perhaps it would be better to break our courtship to appease your father,” she sighed.

His grip on her chin tightened slightly, and his gaze turned fierce, “I will not be separated from you so easily.”

She sighed lightly.

“I cannot deny what is in my heart,” he told her.

A flicker of hope shone in her eyes, “And what is in your heart?”

He stared at her for a few moments, then pulled their hands that were still intertwined and placed her palm over his heart. Quietly, he said, “A love that is fiercer than a summer's storm.”

She inhaled sharply and breathed, “Oh, Thranduil.”

He frowned for a moment, “And it is real, no matter what my father may have to say.”

She hesitated, then asked, “Is it real?”

His gaze grew sharp, then softened as he stared into her eyes. He watched until a blush dusted her cheeks.

His hand moved from her chin to caress the apple of her cheek, tracing the flush, “Is this not real?” He dipped his head to press a light kiss on her lips, then pressed her hand deeper onto his chest, so she could feel the quickening of his heartbeat, “Is that not proof enough? Or would you have me tell you that you are ever in my thoughts? That I have never felt anything like the happiness I feel when I am with you?”

Breathing deeply, Celebelen took hold of her courage with both hands and breathed, “I love you.”

A subtle relief flashed across his features and he returned his mouth to hers to kiss her thoroughly. Her hand slipped from where it lay on his chest to rest gently in his hair. Exhaling happily, he released her other hand to wrap his arm around her waist to pull her closer, weaving his free hand into her hair to hold the back of her neck to kiss her more deeply.

Much to his irritation, Thranduil heard an intruder happen upon their quiet clearing. Hoping they would pass them by, he continued kissing her. When it became apparent that they would not, he made a noise of frustration in the back of his throat and broke their kiss. Sliding his hand from her neck to her cheek once more, he smiled happily while taking in her sweetly kissed lips, and her slowly opening slumberous eyes.

Hearing their intruder clear their throat, Celebelen looked over his shoulder and gasped. In an instant, she squirmed out of his grasp and put a respectable amount of distance between them. Seeing her bow, he sighed, knowing his father was here. He turned and raised a questioning brow.

His father's face was carefully blank as he took them both in. Quietly he said, “I require your presence.”

Thranduil stepped forward until Oropher held up his palm, halting him, “Not you, her.”

Both males glanced at Celebelen, who had gone more pale by the second. She glanced at Thranduil as she stepped forward. His stomach seemed to twitch in unease as he watched his father hold his hand out for hers. When her hand was delicately perched in Oropher's palm, Thranduil's hands clenched into fists.

Turning to his son, Oropher told him, “You will report to the counsel room at sundown. We have much to discuss.”

And Thranduil watched them leave.

 


	8. Chapter 8

Walking with the king back into the palace was probably the most nerve wracking experience Celebelen ever had. They were stopped by many on the way to the counsel room, and he responded to every question that was posed to him.

She was certain her hand shook within his as they entered into an empty counsel room. He released her hand and turned to face her.

“So you are Celebelen,” he smiled at her.

She nodded, choosing to remain silent for the moment.

“Many tell me that you are an excellent healer,” he remarked.

“I am,” she replied.

“You're very sure of yourself,” he said with a sardonic smile.

“It is the only thing I have always excelled at, my lord,” she said softly.

His smile melted into actual fondness for a moment, “It's good that you have that certainty, that when all is final, you are still a good healer. Many do not have even that.”

She gave him a half smile in return.

“Would you like to know what else I have been told about you?” he asked, his voice benign.

She nodded slowly.

“I was told that you are a sweet maid who cannot stand for any to be in pain. That you are quiet, reserved, and kind,” he said, eyes watching her closely, seeing the emotions being played out on her face.

“I...It is true I dislike pain. I took a vow as a healer to do no harm and to value all life,” she almost tripped over her words in her nervousness.

He nodded in acknowledgment, “Good, then you will receive what I have to say better than my son.”

Dread filled Celebelen at his words. Apparently that shone loud and clear across her face, because he tried soothing her.

“My dear, I do not mean to harm you. You do not know what I have to say,” he said gently.

“I...I was told by Prince Thranduil that you expressed disapproval of his choice in courting me,” she said hesitantly.

His gaze grew sad, “I did. However, I could not calm him enough to explain why.”

Her gaze grew curious, though she remained silent.

Oropher sighed, “What my son does not understand is that I know that infatuation is almost intoxicating in nature. However, if it is left to become real, true love, it will eventually, turn bitter.”

She opened her mouth to protest, then remembered that this was the king, and closed it.

He noticed her attempt, “I know that must sound terrible. Though I am simply trying to save my son from a fate similar to mine.”

“Your....your fate, my lord?” she asked quietly.

“No one speaks of this anymore, and they are right to. I lost my wife not too long ago,” he told her.

She nodded, “Prince Thranduil had spoken of it to me, my lord.”

He looked away from her, his eyes slightly misting over, “She was a warrior, strong, brave, and true to the very end. She was killed as we left to find this very land. She was shot in her back by an arrow from an orc. She was gone quickly, and there was nothing I could do.”

Celebelen took in a sharp breath, heart aching for the king.

He looked at her again pain now very plain in his eyes, “I loved her very much. And now that Thranduil, her only son, is all that I have left of her, I feel I must protect him.”

“I would never harm your son,” she told him earnestly.

He nodded, “Not intentionally.”

Wordlessly, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Celebelen, you are a healer. You are soft and defenseless. How would my son ever hope to protect you, if we were to come under siege? If you were taken, he could not bear it. The only reason I survived is because I had him to look after,” if he were not king, she would have sworn he sounded almost desperate.

She was quiet for several moments, until she said quietly, “You speak as if this is a certain outcome, my lord.”

“I would not risk his life on such a fleeting emotion. I would have it fade and spare him this pain. Wouldn't you?” he asked, watching her carefully.

Her head bowed, “I would.”

“Good.”

“He will not give in easily,” she said quietly.

Oropher nodded, “You are right, he will not. This is why I have arranged an escort.”

“An...escort? My lord?” she asked.

“There are plants in the north of Greenwood that were not touched by the dragon's fire. I need them collected. You are the most qualified to go in my stead,” he said meaningfully.

She nodded, “As you wish, my king. When do I leave?”

“Tonight is my wish. However, you may wait until morning.”

She bowed, “Tonight it shall be. Allow me a few hours to prepare for my journey.”

“Very well. I will alert the ones I have chosen as your escort,” he replied.

She exited very quickly, her heart heavy in her chest.

* * *

  


Truthfully, Celebelen had very few possessions. When she was done, she wanted to go to him, to explain, to try and make him understand. But she knew she shouldn't, it would only give him hope, and make him more stubborn. No, it was best if she left without a word.

But perhaps, she could soften the blow.

With silent, purposeful strides, she made her way through the palace to the stables. When she arrived, there was his elk, standing as tall and majestically as ever. Just like him.

“Hello, beautiful one,” she said softly, walking up to gently brush the silky coat covering his neck.

With a soft snort, he tried to nip at the gold of her hair, in affection. He appeared to have remembered her kindness in healing his ankle. After a moment of petting him, she hugged his neck.

“I'm sorry. I wish I could tell him myself. I think I should be gone for a short while,” she told the elk, despite knowing he could not reply.

He seemed to understand, however, as his response was to bow his head and nuzzled her back with his muzzle. After a moment of fighting back tears, she stepped back to look into his eyes, holding his head in her hands.

“You must tell him in my stead, brave one,” she said as she raised one of her hands from his face to her hair. She tugged at the ribbon in her hair, pulling it free. For a moment, she stared at the light blue band, remembering it as one Thranduil had given to her. She shook her head, and reached up to wrap it gently around her friend's antler.

“Try and help him understand, dear heart. He will not at first, but hopefully, what was blossoming will have faded,” she told him as she tied the knot gently.

With a snort, he shook his head and gently nudged her shoulder with his muzzle. When he stepped back, his warm borwn eyes seemed almost reproachful.

“There's not much I can do. Just because my heart was lost, doesn't mean his has to be as well,” she reasoned.

The elk stamped his right front hoof.

Her voice went quiet, “Orders are orders. I have to go. I would not risk his life for the world.”

His head dipped forward again, brushing his nose against her cheek. With half a smile, she pushed him back slightly.

“I will return. I promise,” she said, petting the soft velvet of his nose.

He let out a soft noise from his throat.

“Yes, I will visit you more often after my return,” she replied. Then she pressed a kiss between his eyes, lifted the hood of her traveling cloak, and disappeared into the forest.

She only paused once to turn to see the elk standing in the lowering sunlight, with her ribbon drifting lazily in the wind from his antlers.

Then she returned to the palace, that way her journey could begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! I hope you are enjoying! I am so sorry this took me over a week to complete. Also I'm over at eldartari on tumblr if you want to toss encouragement and inspiration my way <3


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And thus we get to hear Celebelen sing! :)

A/N: The song that is placed in this is not mine. [However the version I reference (also my singing voice claim for Celebelen) is this one, by Celtic Woman](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0JiQ19SCv7Y)

 

Celebelen stayed in Northern Greenwood for a little over a year.

The encampment that had been set up was a pleasant one as were the elves who made up her escort. She made friends with them all quite easily. Surprisingly, several were very eager to help her gather the herbs she had been sent here for. Of course, many found it amusing how many forest animals who were so quick to hide in their presence, could be found in her hands, if she was left alone for a time.

She walked among the trees most days, scouring for useful plants. Sometimes, she spoke with the birds, who often directed her in the correct direction. She met a few stags, who, despite their arrogance, enjoyed her presence and would sometimes walk with her through the denser parts of the wood. Mostly, she made friends through healing small animals who had been hurt in their adventures. She could never leave an animal in pain, and sometimes the healing process took all day. However, she always made time to spend a few moments murmuring to and feeding the horse that had carried her on their journey here.

Some nights at the camp were spent in comfortable silence. Others were not so fortunate, because as short a time as she had with him, she missed Thranduil. On the nights that her heart was too heavy, she sat by the fire at the center of the camp, and began writing songs with those who were also restless. Sometimes while debating lyrics she would absentmindedly weave flowers into the hair of her nearest willing friend.

She was not a naturally melancholy elf, so few of her songs were truly sad. However, many had heard of her all too brief courtship with Thranduil and heard some of the heartbreak in her lyrics.

Soon, it was the night before their departure to return to the palace. Many of the company sat around the fire, asking Celebelen questions about how she grew up. She was pleased to relay stories of running through silver fields, chasing butterflies, and helping her mother garden. She also loved telling stories of her beginnings of learning to heal, and how her teacher was very patient. She recalled her home in Valinor with fondness, though she did not tell them it was Valinor she spoke of.

One of them asked her how her latest song was coming along. When she said that it was finished, she was asked to sing it for them. Of course, it took a little convincing, and someone getting out their lyre, but eventually she began to sing.

 

Take the wave now and know that you're free,  
Turn your back on the land face the sea,  
Face the wind now so wild and so strong,  
When you think of me,  
Wave to me and send me a song.

 

She was not the best singer, but she wasn't bad either. The lyrics flowed from her heart through her mouth. She sang of leaving behind love and being happy that they could find happiness in other things. It was her song to Thranduil.

When she finished, she acknowledged the polite applause from her friends, smiling gently.

Just then, they all tensed as they heard a large rustling in the trees. There had been a few nights when orcs had come close to their encampment, and they had all been killed. However, they had never ventured this close before. Many had their bows out and nocked an arrow quickly as Celebelen tried to slip into a safe place in their defenses.

In another moment, a rider on one of the kingdom's horses appeared, and many lowered their weapons, releasing a sigh of relief.

“I come for Celebelen, the healer,” the young elf said to their group.

She stepped forward, hand pressed over her chest, “I am she. What word?”

He looked upon her face, “The king sends for you. He has a guest in his house, and wishes for his chief healer to be present at all times within the palace.”

She attempted to keep the puzzled look off her face, “Very well. We had plans to depart as the sun rose, so we will be along soon.”

The elf shook his head, “No. The king wishes for you and your escort to return presently. This guest is very important, and he wishes all of his staff to be present and alert.”

Her head dipped in acknowledgment, “Very well, give my company and I a few moments to break camp, and we will make the return journey with you.”

The elf nodded.

* * *

  


Once they were on the road, Celebelen road astride her horse close to the rider who had come for them.

Clearing her throat, she asked quietly, “Have you seen this visitor?”

He nodded, “Yes, his name is Annatar. He's apparently headed to visit Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn, but stopped in Greenwood for a small stay.”

She nodded and stared ahead, “From where does he hail?”

“We do not know. However, the king seems to think he is very powerful, and very important.”

She nodded, her leaf green velvet hood bobbing with the movement, and after a pause, she asked hesitantly, “How fares the king?”

She saw from the corner of her eye the elf turning to look at her, his lips quirking lightly, “He fares well. His son, the prince, not so much.”

She straightened in her saddle, and attempted to assume a stern expression, which was quite a sight as her features were entirely too soft for such a look. She said imperiously, “I did not ask after the prince, I merely wondered how our king fared or if he required any of my services personally.”

Her companion nodded, a smile blossoming on his face.

A beat of silence was between them, before she turned eagerly in her seat.

“But if I had asked? What would you say?” she asked desperately.

He threw back his head and laughed, “Oh my dear, you are not very candid, are you? The Prince is oft in a foul mood as of late. He does not come to many meals, and he is rarely seen without his father. Many whisper of the many arguments between the king and the prince that occur due to his foul mood.”

One hand left her reigns to press against her chest. She breathed, “Oh no.”

He nodded, “Yes, it is unfortunate. Though many have guessed as to why.”

Their eyes met as the he looked at her meaningfully.

Purposefully she broke the stare and looked down at her horse's mane, “I am sorry to hear of the prince's decline in mood.”

“Come now, many know of the fact that the prince only received a day with you before you left!” he cajoled.

“Many do not know the reasons I left. My function in this kingdom is to go where I am needed. I was needed here, in the north,” she said softly.

Silence drifted between them after that.

It was a few hours before the road to the palace became clear to the untrained eye. Then not long afterwards, the doors became visible.

Dismounting, Celebelen took a deep breath and prepared herself to meet the king and his guest.

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ALL THE ANGSTY FLUFF

**** [This is the song that Celebelen sings](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HZ2DeUsspxY)

 

Celebelen lead her mount to the stables of the palace as calmly as she could. She stopped by where Thranduil's elk stood nearby. He seemed to be pleased with her return as he gave her a greeting nip to her hair.

She smiled at her friend and pulled a sweet root from the small purse that dangled by her hip. When the root in her hand appeared in the stag's vision, he gave a joyful snort and devoured it eagerly. She laughed a little and pet his muzzle a little.

“Wish me luck, my friend. I go to see the king and his guest. I must introduce myself,” she sighed and leaned a little onto him.

She stood for a moment, listening to him munch merrily on his root. Until the messenger who had come for her found her.

“Come, my lady, we go to see the king,” he said.

She sighed and gave one more pat to him, and left with the messenger.

* * *

  


When the doors to the throne room opened, she saw Oropher standing with a strange elf at the foot of the throne. She stepped forward hesitantly and felt a curious sensation as she met the gaze with this unknown elf. His eyes were a strange shade of blue, almost....synthetic?

She bowed before them both, “My lord, I have returned.”

Oropher nodded to her, “And were you successful?”

She nodded, “I was.”

He looked to his guest, “Lord Annatar, this is my head healer, Celebelen of Lorien.”

Annatar stepped forward and grabbed her hand and pressed a kiss to her fingers. Her skin prickled uncomfortably as his eyes glittered up at her. She didn't like this gesture, from Thranduil it was sweet, but somehow this made her uncomfortable.

As soon as was polite, she removed her hand from his grip and said, “I...I apologize but I have work to be doing in the infirmary.”

Oropher nodded at her, “You are free to go. Also, I assume to see you at the Autumn Feast?”

She nodded, “Yes. Good day, my lord.”

She turned to leave as quickly as she could.

She was glad to see her healer friends when she arrived back at her place of work. Many greeted her warmly, especially when they viewed that she had brought back several rare herbs. Thankfully no one asked her about the prince, however she was sure many were skirting around the topic.

It was definitely a busy day in the infirmary. They had the feast to prepare for, as many minor injuries occurred during them. She was also reminded with a laugh that they had to prepare to heal several hangovers as well. Despite all the work to be done, Celebelen was excited for the feast. She had been told that the prince would not be in attendance, so this meant she could go without worry of bumping into him. This news was good, as her plan to steer clear of him was working so far.

 

* * *

  


Later that night, it was time for the feast. It was a wonderfully clear night, elves filtering in and out of the dining halls, laughter spilling into the night. In the courtyards many had taken their plates out to eat under the stars. Many had instruments out and were playing songs together. Sometimes a courtyard full of elves would cajole some pour soul into singing in an off key, drunken way, and the laughter that rang out after the song was done was loudest of all.

She felt happy, and was surprised at how much she had missed being surrounded by her kin. She smiled when it got a little too crowded in the dining halls from all the elves spreading out.

She collected her plate and left to one of the many courtyards. She was grateful when one of the elves who had made up her escort called out to her to join him and his friends. Clion, she was sure his name was.

She settled close to him and proceeded to eat while listening to the conversations around her. She smiled when Clion turned to her with his wine glass perilously full and said, “Celebelen, you should sing.”

She shook her head gently, her smile still in place, “No, I-”

Unfortunately others seemed to have heard him as well and began calling out for her to sing. Soon the whole courtyard was cajoling her into singing. At Celebelen's pleading look, Clion took pity on her and pulled out his lyre to accompany her.

When she stood, the courtyard grew quiet, waiting for her to begin. She whispered in Clion's ear which one of her compositions she had chosen. When he began to play, so too did she begin to sing.

  


Someday, when we are wiser,  
When the world's older,  
When we have learned....  
I pray someday we may yet,  
Live to live and to let live.

  


She was entirely too self conscious to look at anyone while she sang, so she looked to the stars and pressed a hand over her chest. It was a song she had written thinking about her hopes for fairness in the future. As she stared at the sky, she smiled around her words. It was such a beautiful night.

As she finished, she turned to accept the polite applause of those who had listened.

She stumbled when she laid eyes on Thranduil, who was standing on the edges of the courtyard. His face was carefully blank and his arms were crossed over his chest. There he was, standing tall and handsome as he had ever been, the silver of his robes glinting in the moonlight. His icy stare penetrated her and would have pinned her to the spot, had she not thought to look away before that could happen.

In a panic, she tried to lean down to Clion, who unfortunately had just been told that there was to be a dance held in the central courtyard. He excitedly stood up and took Celebelen's hand.

“Come Celebelen, some of the best musicians in Greenwood have agreed to play. This will be great fun!” he told her, pulling her along.

“Clion, I don't-” she started. But soon she was pulled to the edge of the green grass that held all the elves currently coupled up and waiting semi patiently for the musicians to have their instruments in tune.

When the music started, it wasn't long before some pretty maid came to steal Clion away. Truly, Celebelen shouldn't have been surprised, Clion was a warrior and very handsome.

And when Thranduil came from behind her and pulled her gently onto the dance floor, well, she should have expected that too. And yet, some how, she didn't.

He held his hand up and waited for her's to touch his to initiate the dance.

“You have a lovely voice,” he said quietly as they walked around each other in a circle.

“Thank you,” she replied as they switched hands and began to walk in the opposite direction.

“You left again,” he commented as they both bowed to each other.

“Yes. Your father had me in the north, collecting herbs,” she replied as she straightened.

“You didn't say goodbye,” he said, hurt quietly coloring his tone, as he effortlessly turned her on the spot.

“I'm sorry,” she whispered, her heart aching.

It was a few moments of dancing in silence, when he spoke again, softly, “I have missed you.”

And suddenly, somehow in the dance, she found herself in the crook of his arm, leaning slightly away from him, and felt him pull her hand that was clasped in his up and around to his neck. His expression was inscrutable, all except for his eyes, which burned into hers. It felt like the world was in slow motion as everything else fell away and all noise faded to a small hum in her ears. She barely noticed the telltale blush that always formed when he held her stare too long. She was entranced, and by the look of things, so was he. She could feel her will to stay away from him trickling away, as easy as sand in a stream.

It was a strange sensation that passed through them both at that moment. It felt almost exactly the same as when they held hands for the first time, or perhaps the first time they kissed. It felt as if a part of themselves were sliding together in perfect union, as if, somehow, there were perfect dips and curves in their souls that had simply meant to slide together.

She let out a small sigh, and he leaned forward, fingertips lightly tracing the edge of her extended arm.

Suddenly, as if from under water, she heard someone call her name. It didn't register in her mind the first time that she should answer. His lips were inches from hers when the voice called her name again and it startled her.

Suddenly realizing what was happening, she squirmed out of his grip, and searched for the one who had said her name.

When her eyes found one of her colleagues, she looked slightly wild.

“Yes?”

“Ah, there's been an incident. I do believe there's a sprained ankle in the dining hall requiring your attention,” she told her.

She nodded in acknowledgment and turned to bow to Thranduil, trying her best not to meet his eye, “Excuse me, please.”

She scurried away before he could say anything more.

 


End file.
